Chasing Meryl
by cmr2014
Summary: You don't get a chance if you don't fight for it.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

**Chasing Meryl**

Something shimmered into being out of the horizon haze. His legs moved him toward it, more out of habit of repetitive motion now than any commands he gave them. He had had the _left…right…left…right_ cadence in his head so long now that he doubted he could stop moving if he wanted.

A normal man would be dead by now. He felt like he was over halfway there. His clothes had been dark when he started this trek; now, the color was partially sunbleached out, salt stains evidence of where the last of his sweat had dried. He couldn't open his mouth because it was too dry, lips too chapped – felt like his tongue was on flypaper. His eyes had run out of the needed moisture that tears provided, just felt like they were being burned from inside out. If this thing shimmering on the horizon wasn't his goal at last, he might very well die, letting her down just one last time.

He was tired of letting her down. She had followed him for so long, stayed behind this time only because it was absolutely necessary. She was waiting patiently for him to come back to her.

Stupid fool that he was, taking so long to see what was right in front of him the whole time. Always running away, pushing her away. Always letting her down.

He wouldn't let her down again. Not ever again. He _had_ to keep going.

_Please, God, let this be the real thing. I can't take any more mirages. Let this be real, so I can make it back to her._

He marched forward, carrying the heavy burden that was his brother. His brother, whom he had to save. It was a daunting task; with her help, though, he could do it.

He smiled, pushing forward. She would slap him for taking so long, then hug and kiss him. That was what kept him going at this moment, the thought of being reunited with her. No matter how dry he was, she was his water.

Each step brought him closer. Slowly, meter by meter, the thing on the horizon took form. Grew. Began to look like what it was – a little village. The place he was returning to. It held the woman he was returning to.

His forced march brought him into the center of the village itself. He paid no heed to the wondrous stares of the people who gawked at the man that had walked in from the barren desert where only scorching heat was king. He walked to the well, where he hoped she would be.

His vision blurred as he approached, growing dim. Had to stay on his feet…for her…

He heard a voice yell, "Mr. Vash!" right before he hit the ground.

As the big woman came to give him aid and much-needed water, Vash the Stampede managed to force his mouth open and croak out one word before passing into unconsciousness.

"_Meryl…"_


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

_Meryl…images of Meryl swimming in his head…fading in and out like a mermaid swimming away and back…he swam after her…_

Vash was shocked awake as a tidal wave of cold hit him. Surged back to life with a hacking cough that felt like his lungs were made of sand.

Eyes opened. His mind still worked. He searched the faces in the crowd surrounding him, looking for her. Couldn't find her.

_Where was Meryl?_

"Stand back! Everybody, give him some room!"

Milly Thompson would have made a great riot cop. Everyone cleared back at her authoritative voice. She was different than he last remembered her. Same body, same voice, but…she stood a little straighter, her eyes were a little older. She ordered stretchers be brought. The firmness in her commands – she was like a bigger version of Meryl now, no-nonsense and take-charge.

Oh, God – he suddenly hoped she wouldn't slap him like Meryl. His head would come flying off if she did.

Milly set down the bucket that had held the cold water now dripping off him. Bent down and opened each of his eyes wide.

"Ow! My eyes hurt! Stop that!"

Leaned over him and felt his neck, taking his pulse.

"Get your knee off my chest!"

She straightened up again. "Get him to the infirmary. The other one, too."

Vash fought back as they loaded his weak body on a stretcher. "Where is she?" he cried hoarsely. He slapped arms away from him. "Get away from me! I have to find Meryl!" Struggled to sit up.

Milly's stun gun poked in his face. "Mr. Vash, please settle down."

He had seen that thing at work too many times to argue. He laid down, but didn't give up. "Where's Meryl?" he demanded.

Milly strode away to the infirmary, leaving him to be carried along after, crying out for Meryl until his voice went so hoarse that he couldn't be heard.

Inside, she poured him some lemonade in a little kids' cup with a sippy lid. Put it in his hands with a salt tablet. "Take that and drink."

"Not until I see Meryl." He meant it to sound firm, insistent. It came out a whisper.

She busied herself checking over Knives. "Can't hear you. Pill. Drink."

So this was how it would be. Fine. Sulking, he took the salt tablet and slowly drank, barely able to tilt the cup to his lips and sip. Admittedly, it did feel like a miracle elixir. He drank the whole cup. Smacked his chapped lips. "S'good."

"I was afraid of that," Milly said.

"Huh? Why?"

"It's called 'bat sweat'. Lemonade loaded with sugar until it's too sweet, salt until it's bitter. If it tastes good, you're in more than bad shape. You're going to need to drink it until it tastes horrible."

What a load of thomas crap. He didn't have time to drink this whatever. He had to find Meryl!

Or not. Milly refused to answer his questions and demands until he had slowly drunk two liters of water, alternated with the "bat sweat" mixture. S-L-O-W-L-Y. If she thought he was going too fast, she would take the cup away and continue to ignore him. If he got feisty, she'd gesture toward the stun gun and give a faint, mirthless smile.

After a long time, Milly checked his vitals and nodded in satisfaction. "Looking better. That's enough for now. Rest, then we'll give you some more."

"How did you start doing nurse stuff?" Vash asked her. His voice was stronger. "You're not dressed like one."

"We don't have a regular nurse. We take turns. It's on-the-job training, but not too bad. Most people here know how to take care of themselves." She looked at him pointedly.

"When does Meryl come on-shift?"

For a second, she lost the in-charge vibe. Uncertainty flickered in her eyes. She opened a drawer and took out an envelope, tossed it on his chest. Left the room, head down.

Vash picked up the envelope and looked at it. His name was carefully written in a woman's handwriting.

He broke the tape seal to see what was inside. Read the letter within.

_Vash,_

_If you're reading this, it means you made it back. That makes me glad._

_You are a wonderful man. The most heroic man I have ever met. The most selfless._

_You are so selfless that you have gone off to fight your brother over a race that despises you. So selfless that even though he will be trying to kill you, you will be trying to save him._

_I see now that you give so much of yourself, you have nothing left to give me. I am selfish for wanting it otherwise, I know. Please understand that though I am sorry for my selfishness, I will never apologize for loving you._

_I know you are a plant. I know you do not age the same as us. I know all the reasons it would never work. And that will never change the fact that I want us to try to make it work. _

_I could not take being around you when there is no room for me in your heart. Nor can I bear the thought that you have lost and will not be coming back. Take care of Milly for me. Take care of everyone, as you always do. _

_Please don't look for me._

_Meryl_

It was dated over a week ago.

He set the letter down on his chest. Sighed. Picked it up and read it again. And again. And again.

Folded it back up and put it in the envelope.

_Please don't look for me._

Was this what she felt like at Jeneora Rock?

Vash raised his head and looked over at Knives, weighing risks in his head. He had not planned to leave Knives alone; he wanted his brother to have someone familiar around when he woke up, even if it was someone Knives hated. On the other hand, there was no telling when Knives would regain consciousness. It might be some time before he healed enough to do so. Even if he did become conscious soon, it would be a long time before he recovered enough to reach any level of dangerous.

Meanwhile, every second that ticked by was an opportunity lost. He made his decision.

"Milly!"

Not-Nurse Milly came back in. "Do you need something? Cool wrap or something?"

He needed only one thing. "Where is she?"

She stuck her chin out defiantly. "I'm the only 'she' here."

It was nice of her to try, but he didn't have time for this. He looked her straight in the eye. _"Where's Meryl?"_

Milly's chin trembled as she lost her confident pose. Any other time, Vash would have been gentler. But this was too important. He kept the eye contact until she crumbled.

"She went back to December! Back to the main office to request reassignment!" She began to wail. "Oh, Mr. Vash, why couldn't you have just stayed? Then Meryl would still be here and you'd be with her and it would almost be like before..."

Vash motioned her closer. She knelt and he took her hand. "I'm sorry, Milly. I couldn't save him for you. I had to at least try to save my own brother." She nodded tearily, trying to accept the way things were, and patted his shoulder. When she tried to rise, he kept her down. "But I need her address."

Mily sniffled. "I thought you might." She reached in a pocket and pulled out a folded-up piece of paper. "She left me this in case I changed my mind and went back. I want my friend back, but I really should honor her wishes, too. So I'm putting it back in my pocket." Her hand moved, and he heard the soft impact as the paper hit the floor. She stood and left the room.

He reached down weakly and picked it up. There was an address written on it in the same handwriting as the letter. Meryl's writing was precise, yet pretty, just a hint of flourish.

Vash tucked the paper inside the envelope. There was no time to waste; she already had too much of a head start. Any day, maybe even any moment, she could get her reassignment and be whisked away from him for good. He swung his legs over and forced himself up. Swayed dizzily, but caught himself. No time for weakness, he had to move.

He stepped out in the front room, clutching the envelope with its precious address inside like a lifeline. Milly looked up and saw him.

"Go lie back down!" she commanded.

He looked at her. "Knives is in too bad a shape to be dangerous. You'll be safe looking after him while I'm gone."

"_I said lie down!"_ she thundered. He couldn't remember ever hearing Milly thunder. She'd learned well from Meryl. That didn't stop him as he started walking out.

Milly gave chase. "Mr. Vash, wait! You're in no shape to be moving right now. What do you think you're doing?"

He shrugged her off. "I've come this far for Meryl. I'm going the rest of the way."


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

Meryl Stryfe's apartment was a small, transitory affair. There were no divisions, except for the too-small bathroom and the little bedroom. Kitchen, dining area, and living area all were part of one big room. Ok, one _small_ room.

It was designed for discomfort, to make occupants eager to get out of there and back in the field. The Bernardelli Insurance Society did not feel its employees should be rewarded with comfort when they were not out doing their jobs. Never mind the fact _they_ were the ones taking their time finding a new assignment for her.

She had just finished cleaning and oiling her derringers. When they were each secure in their little holsters in her cape and the maintenance kit put away, she looked around the tiny space. It still smelled lemony from when she had cleaned it this morning. She took out the cleaning gear again.

How many times could Meryl clean the same things?

She shrugged as she set in. As many times as it took to not think about what she didn't want to think about.

Meryl was in love with Vash. She'd stopped denying that to herself at some point. He didn't feel the same; the more she thought about her time with him and how he had left, the clearer that was to her. To press the issue would be a recipe for disaster.

So she left, before her heart was broken all the way. Let someone else pick up chasing after Vash the Stampede, she couldn't do it anymore. It hurt too much watching him walk away. Always walking away from her.

Still, she wanted to be with him so bad. When she slept, she dreamed of that annoying, idiotic, tragically heroic man who had saved an entire town with just six bullets. Backed down a bank crew with nothing but conviction and a finger in his pocket. The man who had walked away.

She dreamed of him coming back, looking only for her. Getting down on one knee to ask the ultimate question. She dreamed of saying yes.

It would never happen, Meryl knew. But she couldn't stop dreaming of it happening.

Two and a half weeks had passed since she arrived in December. Seventeen days of waiting. Four hundred and eight hours of trying not to think about him, when every heartbeat was made of him.

This sucked. _Reassign me, already!_

After the apartment had been cleaned yet again, Meryl changed into t-shirt and shorts and pulled on running shoes. It was time to run. She had been running twice a day in addition to her daily workout. You got plenty of exercise while on field assignment, but it was necessary to work out when you weren't in the field. Objects in a state of rest and all.

Meryl ran like she did everything else – to the max. She never had a set route, just went wherever her feet took her for an hour and a half at a time. There were no set routes in the field, and running just all over the place meant she had to be alert for obstacles in her path. She concentrated on moving as fast as she could, dodging and jumping when she needed to. Heart beating, lungs pumping, Meryl ran like she was trying to break the sound barrier. She ran until her lungs were made of fire and her legs had acid flowing through them.

Maybe if she ran hard enough and long enough, she could outrun the way she felt.

She was flushed and soaked with sweat by the time she got back to the apartment. It was always her hope that endorphins would help make her feel better, but no such luck. The most she could do now was try to relax with a long, hot shower.

Forty-five minutes later, she emerged and dried off, smelling like lavender. Put on some fresh clothes. She at least _looked_ relaxed.

A knock at the door took her attention away from trying to decide whether to cook or go out. Her heart leaped – a messenger with orders to report for reassignment at last! Now she could hopefully put him behind her for good.

She went and opened the door. Time froze as she locked eyes with her visitor. Emotions and urges warred inside her.

Meryl wanted to throw herself at him. Wanted to slap him. Wanted to kiss him. Wanted to strangle him.

She was this close, _this close_, to being able to walk away from something that would never be possible. He had no right – _no damn right!_ – to show up like this, the living personification of everything she dreamed of. His showing up here was going to do nothing but torture her.

Her heart beat just a little faster as he held eye contact with her. She looked into those sea-green eyes that she wanted to wake up to every day for the rest of her life…

"I have something to say," Vash told her.

Meryl closed the door, shutting him out.


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

Lyrics to "Hold On, I'm Comin'", by Sam and Dave

**Flashback**

_A truck ground its way along a dirt road that could more properly be described as a trail. The radio gave a soundtrack to the lonely experience that was a long haul._

_The driver slowed as he spied something in the road ahead. He wasn't one to care about sparing the life of some dumb animal, but he did care about making sure his vehicle didn't get damaged in any way. This truck was his livelihood, and he wasn't about to risk damaging the tires on some carcass way out here._

_He eased up on whatever it was. As the truck got closer, he saw it was a man. A man who was still alive, crawling on all fours. It looked like he was determined as hell to get somewhere._

_The driver grabbed the short-barreled shotgun on the seat next to him. He didn't have an intimidating build, and he'd been held up on a run just once, but once was all it took to teach him not to take chances. The shotgun went on every run with him, always loaded. He pumped a round, took the keys with him, and hopped out to investigate. Walked up behind the crawling man, shotgun ready._

"_Just hold it right there," he commanded. The man on the ground stopped crawling and turned to look at him. His clothes were hanging loose on him, by the looks of it from loss of water weight. Blond hair hung loose around his face, which was drawn and looked like it had been run through a dust storm twice. _

_The right thing to do would be to help the poor bastard. On the other hand…_

_The driver walked right up to the man and kicked him onto his back. Planted a boot on his chest and stuck the shotgun right against his skull. _

"_Anybody out there," he called loudly, "you come out right now or you'll be short one headless man!" He waited for a full minute as silence reigned. The man he was standing on remained silent through the whole ordeal._

"_Reckon you're alone," the driver said. The man held out his hand to be helped up, and the driver nudged it away with the toe of his boot. "Alone don't mean clean."_

_He knelt and frisked the stranger quickly. Took the heavy six-gun from its holster. Only then did he help the stranger up, letting the man lean on his shoulder as they went to the truck. He boosted the stranger inside._

"_Sorry," the driver said as he climbed in and started on his run again. "Can't be too careful." He gestured. "Water in that canteen and jerky in that bag. Look like you more'n need it."_

"_Thanks," the stranger said in a hoarse whisper. He drank and ate quietly. "You happen to be going through December?"_

"_Yeah," the driver said. "Supply run. Drop off, refuel, pick up, out. That where you're headed?"_

_The man nodded. "Someone I have to see."_

"_Must be pretty important to have you crawling along back there."_

"_Most important person there is." The stranger twisted in his seat to try to rest._

_The song playing on the radio echoed the fervent prayer in his heart._

"_Just hold on, I'm comin'_

_Hold on, I'm comin'_

_Just hold on, don't you worry_

_I'm comin'…"_

**End Flashback – **

The truck driver, after finding out he was crawling through the desert for love of a woman, had insisted on giving Vash enough money for a change of clothes and a few meals. "Won't do no good to show up looking like twice-baked death."

Everything had needed replacing. He was now wearing jeans and a denim work shirt, suede gloves, new boots. Hair was freshly styled. A couple of good meals, combined with the rest he got in the truck, had returned his vigor. He wasn't completely recovered yet, but he looked like Vash again.

He had made one call to Milly as soon as he hit December – Knives was still unconscious but stable, she and the other not-nurses were taking good care of him. No worry there, but yes, Vash could check in daily if he wished. Please, if he could, bring Meryl back soon. Oh, and some of her favorite brand of pudding! Thanks.

He resumed his mission.

He had to wander around a bit and walk his way through mixed-up directions, but eventually he found himself at Meryl's apartment complex. Marched up to the number written on the address he'd gotten from Milly. Got rid of the breath-freshening mint gum he'd been chewing and straightened up a little.

What should he say to her? How would she react to seeing him?

"_Oh. It's you. Get the hell away from me."_

"_What part of 'don't look for me' don't you understand? Eat derringer!"_

"_Oh, hi, Vash! You're just in time. Meet my new husband!"_

The last one made him wish he had a bottle of antacid.

Trying to plan this out was foolish. He just had to speak his heart to her.

He knocked on her door. It opened a moment later.

There she was. Freshly showered, from the clean look about her. Dressed casually in a pink t-shirt and jeans, bare feet. The scent of lavender surrounded her.

Their eyes locked for a long moment.

She was here. He wasn't too late. He wanted to reach out and pull her to him, hold her just to prove to himself she was real and not just a vain figment.

"I have something to say," Vash told her.

Meryl closed the door, shutting him out.


	5. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

Vash didn't know why Meryl had closed the door on him. He did know that was not going to be her answer. He hadn't made not one but two desert treks to accept a door being closed.

Lacking actual gauntlets, he took off his gloves and threw them down. Meryl would give a real answer – _after_ he said what he had come to say.

The door kicked in like it was made of cardboard, taking part of the jamb with it. He strode through to face a startled, angry Meryl.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing? That was company property, you broom-headed ass!"

Her hand lashed out to slap him, but Vash caught it and brought her arm down to her side as he took hold of the other one. "I didn't come here to be slapped!"

"You weren't supposed to come at all!" she snapped. "I'm trying to give you what you need!"

He tilted her chin up so he was looking right in her eyes again.

"The only thing I need is right in front of me."

He could see the desire in her deep, beautiful eyes.

"Don't," she whispered, suddenly trembling. "Please don't say that."

"Why not?" His mouth was moving closer and closer to hers.

"_Because I want it to be true!"_ Meryl vehemently wrenched herself away from him, moving a safe several feet away. "Damn it, Vash, you don't get to do this! You don't get to be so wonderful that I fall in love with you, then just walk away like I'm a pack of cigarettes you forgot. You don't get to break my heart and then just show up and make me fall all over again.

"You don't get to do any of that, just like _I don't get to have you!_"

"You're right, Meryl," he said, taking a step toward her. She stepped back, carefully staying out of his reach.

Vash frowned, but stayed locked on her. "I don't get to just walk away from you. I _can't_ walk away from you. I carried my brother through hell, then went through it again to get here, and the only reason I made it was you were waiting for me. Both times, I just wanted to get back to you." He took another step toward her.

Meryl stepped back again, pivoting away. _"Don't say that!"_ She was fighting to hold back her tears as a storm raged inside her. "Damn it, you're a plant and I'm a human. You _know_ it can't work. Please – just leave. I've already put in for reassignment; there's no turning back."

"Then I'll follow you."

"You'll _what_?"

"I'll follow you," he repeated. "You followed me for so long. It's only fitting I should follow the woman I love." Step.

It was all Meryl could do to keep the tears from overflowing. "_Stop it!_ Just _stop_ saying things like that. Why couldn't you have said them all earlier, before it was too late?" She stepped back. "And it _is_ too late, Vash. Why can't you understand? We don't get to happen."

"Who says?" Vash demanded. "Who makes that rule?"

"_Reality! _Reality makes that rule, ok? There's no happily ever after for us!"

"_Screw_ reality! Reality doesn't get to say what we can and can't be – _we_ do. You want as much as I do to find out what happens."

He took another step toward her. She tried to step back, but she was backed into the corner by the broken-open door. There was nowhere for her to run anymore.

Vash leaned in close, one hand on the wall. Placed his other hand over her heart, feeling the jackhammer beat. Involuntary tremors filled her at his touch.

"I want my chance with you, Meryl."

"Don't…" It was more plea than command.

His mouth was moving closer again. The storm inside her intensified.

"Don't what?"

Her hands wouldn't quit clenching and unclenching. She turned her head away from the man she wanted to yield to. Grabbed his shoulders and pushed, trying to hold back what her heart demanded she have. Tears began slipping out.

"Don't say my name like that." _Don't make me feel like that._

Vash took his hand from the wall and touched her cheek. With the gentlest of pressure, he turned her head to face him again.

Softly, right above her lips: "I finally found my elusive mayfly. Her name is Meryl."

The storm inside Meryl exploded outward as his lips made contact. Rational thought was vaporized by her surging emotions as his mouth took hers. Some distant part of her noticed that, for whatever reason, he tasted like mint.

Meryl returned his pressure, hands reaching behind his neck and pulling him close, losing herself in his kiss. Jumped up and locked her kegs around his waist, claiming him as rightfully hers. She stayed wrapped around him as tight as she could, partly out of desire and partly out of terror that he would somehow disappear if she didn't hold on to her Vash.

She felt, rather than heard, his chuckle. Tore herself away long enough to ask, "What's so funny?"

He jerked his head. "We have an audience. Your neighbors are watching."

Rationality tugged at her. She had never been one for public displays of affection – and she very much felt like displaying her affection. The choice between embarrassment and Vash took about half a heartbeat.

"Shut up and kiss me." Meryl pulled his mouth back on hers, feeling the world dissolve into fireworks. One leg momentarily unwrapped itself and kicked the door shut.

With part of the jamb gone, it recoiled back open. She didn't care. She was busy.

Vash walk-carried her into the tiny bedroom. That door stayed closed.


	6. Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

Lyrics to "I Love You", by Sarah McLachlan

Later – many laters, actually – they lay curled around each other under something she had, in her post-bliss mumble, called a duvet. It looked like a blanket to him.

Holding her sleeping form in his arms, one of her legs lazily draped over him, Vash absentmindedly played with Meryl's hair.

What had he been going to say to her before she closed the door on him and this all started?

Oh, yes. That was it.

He sang softly in his mayfly's ear.

"And I forgot

To tell you,

I love you."


	7. Chapter 7

DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

It was Milly's turn to work the infirmary. Three guys had beaten each other up pretty bad over a saloon girl, who had apparently taken their wallets in the aftermath. Two guys had broken bones from trying to break a wild thomas while beyond hammered. And one idiot in particular, she was convinced, was lucky to not have his last words be, _"Hey, y'all, watch this!"_

And, of course, there was Knives. All the girls fawned over the handsome stranger brought in by Vash. Milly alone knew the truth, and warned the others to be wary around him, but they insisted on fantasizing about the gallant deeds of heroism that surely this vision of perfection had performed to be injured so. He must have been injured saving Vash's life in some horrific gun battle, that was why Vash had been carrying him. Because Vash the Stampede owed his life to this unconscious man.

Yes, they agreed, that was what had happened.

As long as they were careful around him, Milly let them think what they wanted. They had their perception set to eye candy.

For his part, Knives remained unconscious. He was stable, though, requiring little care beyond intravenous fluids and monitoring for the time being. If he was officially diagnosed at comatose by a doctor, he might have to be moved to an actual hospital; but that was a decision above her pay grade. In the meantime, the other girls fought over who got to give him sponge baths.

She had just finished checking his vitals when she heard someone call.

"Milly!"

Vash was back! She hurried to the front room, expecting to see her two favorite people. But it was just him.

"Mr. Vash? Is Meryl outside or something? She's coming, right? You found her and she's coming back?"

She didn't notice the pink suitcase at his side. Didn't notice his mouth quirk.

"I'm sorry, Milly," he told her with a straight face. "It would be impossible for Meryl to return here from December at this point."

Milly's face fell. "I see," she said quietly.

Her head down, she didn't notice Vash step aside, revealing Meryl standing right behind him.

Didn't look up until she heard Meryl's voice. "It would be impossible because I'm already here!"

Milly squealed with joy, ran and picked her friend up in a bear hug. Meryl whooshed as the air left her.

"You can put – me down – any – time," Meryl wheezed.

Milly acquiesced, but the happy reunion continued. After a while, she asked the serious question.

"What about reassignment? Are you back for good?"

"Yes," Meryl confirmed. "I spoke with the Chief, and the reason they were taking so long is they couldn't find anyone who was willing to work with the Humanoid Typhoon. He was very glad I changed my mind."

Milly was filled with pride in her friend. "I knew it! You're the only one good enough to tackle Vash the Stampede!"

"Oh yeah," Vash grinned. "She and I both did some tackling!"

Milly laughed and said, "You're funny, but what are you talking about, Mr. Vash?"

Meryl elbowed him in the riibs. "Never mind him. Hey, is there anything to drink in here?'

"We keep some things set aside for us. Is juice ok?"

"Juice would be great, Milly."

"Coming right up!" Milly ran to get some, debating whether to put laxative in Vash's as payback for punking her.

Vash came up and put his arms around Meryl. "So how does it feel to be back?"

"Being back here? It feels good." She smiled as she moved in to kiss him. "It's being with you that feels like coming home."


End file.
